As they made their way to Chancery Lane, Mr Toots regaled Mr Headstone with a description of how the Game Chicken had but recently covered himself and his country in glory in a contest with the Nobby Shropshire One, and, for the pedagogue’s further edification, the Chicken obligingly re-enacted some of the more dramatic passages from that same contest by engaging in a mock bout or two with several startled passers-by. Mr Headstone’s appetite for the sporting spectacle was whetted by this display of the fine and noble art, and his interest was further piqued by Mr Toots’s prediction that his man would come out strong and go in to win, and that any money put down in support of said prognostication would return a dividend with interest more certain than any venture made upon ‘Change.
The reader might imagine, therefore, the disappointment that
the pedagogue felt when, arriving at the Hole in the Wall, he learnt that the
fight was to take place at Newbury; which, being a distance out of the city, made
it an impossibility for him to attend in person. In anticipation of another
famous victory by the Chicken, Mr Headstone made a wager with Mr Randall, the landlord
of the pub, on the outcome; and Mr Randall, being a practitioner of the fine
and noble art himself, obliged him by accepting it. There being a caravan starting
from Tom Belcher’s at two, which would go right out and back again the next
day, Mr Toots and the Chicken settled on this method for going down, and so
parted company with Mr Headstone, promising to call upon the gentleman on the morrow with
his share of the winnings.
